Pardon My Kleptomania
by Keolah
Summary: Hadvar takes issue with the unsavory habits of his new friend, Thorn.


Thorn woke in the blacksmith's home in Riverwood one evening, planning for another night of stealthy escapades. The Khajiit didn't tend to pay too much attention to the blacksmith's nephew that she'd escaped from Helgen with, but tonight he caught her attention and spoke up.

"Thorn," Hadvar said. "We need to talk."

"Huh?" Thorn said, ears twitching as she casually plopped down in a chair. "What is it?" If Riverwood had been attacked by a dragon like Helgen had been, she was sure that she'd have heard it and woken up.

"Why is this chest full of stolen goods?"

Oh, that. She was hoping they wouldn't notice. "What makes you think it's stolen?" Thorn asked, tail flicking with a touch of annoyance.

Hadvar pulled out the golden claw and held it in front of her face. "Didn't Lucan Valerius send you to recover this from thieves who had stolen it? What's it doing here?"

"Oh, that," Thorn said, waving her paw offhandedly. "After all the trouble I went through for it, I thought I'd keep it as a souvenir."

"I'm sure Lucan will be ecstatic to hear that," Hadvar said dryly. "You should at least pay him for it. And what about the rest of this stuff?"

"I've been killing a lot of bandits," Thorn said lightly, shrugging.

"You expect me to believe that the bandits had all of this tableware?" Hadvar said. "And that it had mysteriously gone missing from everyone in the town? What, did the bandits sweep through like locusts in the night and steal everything, and you conveniently got it all back?"

"Sure, let's go with that."

Hadvar folded his arms across his chest and looked at her pointedly. "I don't believe that."

Thorn snorted softly. "Well, alright then."

"Let's start this conversation over," Hadvar said. "With the truth this time. _Why is this chest full of stolen goods?_"

"Because I haven't had a chance to fence them yet," Thorn replied.

Hadvar stared at her. "And... Why did you store all of these stolen goods _here_?"

"Because I don't have a house of my own yet to store them in," Thorn said. "But I'm through here often enough to keep an eye on them."

Hadvar put his face in his hands. "Well, this explains how you wound up in chains back in Helgen, at least. I really should report you, though."

"You said I'd get a full pardon for my crimes," Thorn said.

"For your crimes that led up to your impending execution!" Hadvar said. "That wasn't supposed to include whatever you might do after that!"

"Oh, well, you should have specified," Thorn said, ears drooping in disappointment.

"Why did you even take all of this? Most of it couldn't be worth more than a septim or two."

Thorn shrugged. "Practice. Need to keep my skills sharp, after all."

"Well, if it was just for _practice_ then you wouldn't mind giving it back, would you," Hadvar said pointedly.

Thorn paused for a moment before replying, "I would not be averse to making everyone's bowls and tankards mysteriously reappear on their tables."

"By breaking into their homes again?" Hadvar said.

"Lockpicking practice. Very important. It's a valuable skill."

"For criminals," Hadvar said.

"You can't possibly think of a legitimate use for it?" Thorn said, flicking her ears at him. "You have no enemies who might want to lock up their strongholds? No intelligence to be gathered by stealth?"

Hadvar sighed. "Fine. Fine. Just make sure that everything is out of this house by tomorrow, and I'll forget about all this."

"Will do."

There were plenty of other places to stash things in the meantime. Perhaps it was time to stop fooling around here and bother going to Whiterun finally to warn the jarl about the dragon she'd encountered in Helgen, or some such. And more importantly, buy a house to stash her stolen goods in.

Thorn quietly spent much of the night picking the locks on everyone's doors and returning everything that she didn't think she was going to keep or actually bother selling to the places she'd originally taken them from. At least, they were probably the places she'd taken them from. She didn't really bother to keep track of which tankard had come from which house. Well, at least it would suffice for disposing of this junk.

When she woke the next evening, Hadvar confronted her again. "When I said I wanted it out of the house, I didn't mean to just shove it in the barrel just outside the door!"

"Well, it's technically out of the house," Thorn said, ears drooping. "Should I move it a bit further away? I _was_ intending to set out for Whiterun tonight."

"I did mean to return it to its rightful owners," Hadvar said.

Like Thorn had any idea what belonged to who anymore. "Are you getting annoyed at me again? I mean, I did save your life and everything."

"Divines!" Hadvar muttered. "Just make this stuff disappear already. Before anyone starts accusing my family of being involved in thievery."

"Alright, alright," Thorn said.

"If I'd known you were going to be so much trouble, I'd have... I don't know..."

"Gotten eaten by a dragon?" Thorn suggested.


End file.
